I just finished reading Somebody to Love? by Grace Slick (of Jefferson Airplane & Jefferson Starship). I loved it. In fact, I loved it so much, I read it in two sittings. It’s one of those books I want to buy so that I can underline all of the little treasures of wisdom she gives. Besides giving an insider’s take on the Sixties, Grace has a lot of really great insights that only age can bring a woman. And she’s a hoot, a brassy broad who says what she thinks. She’s not only survived life’s challenges and losses, she has transcended them, and with a humor that I just love. Makes me wish she had a weblog, damn it.On old rockers:
“I consider performing rock and roll to be a young person’s game. Old farts leaping around, trying to hang on to their flapping skin, is not an uplifting experience for me, either to watch or perform. There are certain kinds of performances that simply don’t lend themselves to wrinkles. Like hard rock… Picture spandex on Ted Koppel, or Newt Gingrich behind a drum set. Hideous, right? If you don’t mind geriatric rock, that’s fabulous. It’ll buy Grace Slick a home in Saint-Tropez if you continue to show up at concerts in throngs of thousands and give up your forty dollars a head to listen to a fifty-eight-year-old woman say, “Up against the wall, motherfucker.” That was okay in 1969. But would you buy that now? Maybe I could be the first rocker to have a bedpan roadie, an oxygen unit on stage between songs, a change of Depends, and a Count the Liver Spots contest.”
